Goblin King's Imp
by psychoticKisshu
Summary: Harry has always done the unexpected/impossible at Hogwarts, if only because he didn't know what he was getting into. But what if Harry knew of magic before the letters came?
1. Chapter 1

**Goblin King's Imp**  
Category: Movies » Labyrinth  
Author: psychoticKisshu  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T  
Genre: Romance/General  
Published: 05-10-08, Updated: 01-02-09  
Chapters: 7, Words: 5,207

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

Goblin King's Imp

psychoticKisshu

Disclaim Her: I own nothing except my wild imagination

Chapter 1 Jareth, meet Harry

Jareth was woken up by the feeling of small, thin hands patting his cheeks. Grumbling about being woken up, Jareth cracked open an eye, blinked in amusement/disbelief, shut his eye, rubbed both of them, opened both eyes and stared at the apparition sitting on his chest with a big grin and even bigger green eyes with a livid lightning bolt scar on his forehead along with a mop of unruly black hair dressed in what appeared to be large gray rags.

Jareth frowned at the baby, unable to recall what said child might be doing here in his castle, let alone in his bed. No one that he knew had a child recently, and he was sure he would have remembered seeing this child, had they ever met before.

The baby, apparently amused at his frown, started gurgling even louder, while starting to bounce lightly, hands clapping together and hair hiding and uncovering his scar as his hair moved with the childs' movements.

Jareth felt his lips twitching despite his resolve not to laugh or smile at the babe. "Think I'm funny, do you?" he asked dryly.

"Fuuy!" the babe replied.

Jareth's lips twitched. This was the first time anyone had told him he was funny, despite the age.

"Well, little imp, you're the first to say so," Jareth replied, "I don't suppose you come with a name, now do you?"

The baby nodded and pouted. "Feak!"

Jareth's eyes narrowed as he removed the child from his chest and sat up, leaning against the pillows behind him and putting the child on his lap. "Tell me you didn't just say your name was 'Freak'."

"Feak." The babe repeated.

"Your guardians are morons, little imp."

The babe looked away and started to shiver before disappearing with a slight 'pop'.

Jareth stared at where the child had been sitting in curiousity and frustration, which slowly turned to amusement. "I do hope we meet again, little imp." He murmured to himself, getting out of bed and preparing to deal with the day ahead. "I truly hope we meet again, little imp."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Chapter 2**

Chapter 2 little imp!

--3 yrs. old--

"UP! UP! Upupupupupupupupupupup!" a little voice chanted, bouncing on the mans' chest repeatedly.

"Ugh. I wasn't aware that I had a choice between your chant and your bouncing, little imp," Jareth groused, gently pushing the babe to the left.

He giggled as he landed on the bed, immediately rolling to his hands and knees and crawling back towards the man. "UP! Upupupupupupupupup!"

"Yes, yes I hear you little imp. I'm getting up," Jareth groused, swinging himself out of bed, hissing as his feet came into contact with the cold stone floor of his bedchambers.

"Slippers?" a little voice asked curiously.

"Yes, I'm looking for my slippers, you little imp. Where did you hide them this time, hm?" Jareth frowned down at the boy trying to bury himself in Jareth's sheets. "Oh no you don't, if I have to get up, so do you! Now, where…ah, there they are!" Jareth said, frowning as he pulled his slippers out from underneath his pillows. He had long since given up on figuring out how his slippers kept getting 'misplaced' whenever the imp visited.

Imp gurgled happily, clapping his hands. "Yes, yes. I'm sure this is all quite amusing to you, little imp. Do you have no one else to bother? No, don't answer that, I'm sure I would rather not-"

Pop.

"-know. The little imp! I really must figure out how he does that."

--4 years old--

"Up! Upupupupupupupupup! Jar'th, get up! If I up, you up! Up! Upupupupupupup! Jar'th, get UP!!"

Jareth groaned, pushing the imp to the left as he usually did when the boy appeared. "What is it with you and waking me up, you little miscreant?"

"Wha's miscreant?"

"Miscreant. You are. Shall we see the gardens today then, little imp?"

"Nuh-uh. 'S raining. Get all wet, an' Aunt 'Tunia yells and hits me."

"Your aunt is an idiot who can't see what a charming child you are. Shall we go to the library then, so you can read, little imp?"

"YEAH!! Now get up, Jar'th!"

"Where are my slippers, you imp?"

"?"

Sigh.

Giggle.

"Imp."

--5 yrs old—

"Jar'th! Jar'th! Wake up! Wake up!"

"Aren't you getting a little old for this, imp?"

"Harry."

"What?"

"My name is Harry Potter. The Dursleys had to register me for school and I found out my name was Harry Potter!"

Jareth stared at the boy, and slowly his lips turned up into a smile. "Harry, do you believe in magic?"

"Of course I do! You're magic! So is this place! So, despite my Uncle telling me that there is no such thing as magic, there obviously is if you and this place exists!" Harry exclaimed proudly.

"As I have said before, your relatives are idiots who have no right to you, especially as they have no magic and you do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Chapter 3**

Chapter 3 magic

"Harry, you're magic as well," Jareth stated. "As were your parents, did the Dursleys ever tell you why you lived with them?"

"Uh-huh, 'cause my parents were drunkards and died in a car crash which gave me this scar. I don't believe them." Harry sneered in disgust.

Jareth nodded approvingly. "Good. You shouldn't, they didn't die in such a manner. They were murdered by a man named Tom Marvolo Riddle, but he called himself Lord Voldemort. His servants called him the Dark Lord, and everyone else either called him You-know-who or He-who-can-not-be-named, that is, aside from Dumbledore who just called him Voldemort or Tom."

"That's stupid. If you don't call him by name, you're only increasing the fear of him to promote."

"Very good, Harry. Most people don't think of that."

Harry sneered. "Translation: they don't think – they let society think for them and follow whatever society says that they should do. Stupid bunch of sheep."

Jareth looked at the boy in amusement. "My, my, when ever did you become so cynical, little imp?"

Harry gave him a flat look. "I've always been cynical, you just never noticed it. Especially not when we were younger, and I didn't talk as much." Harry pointed out.

"True, true. Now, Harry, about your parents-"

--two weeks later--

"What's marriage?" Harry asked.

Jareth blinked and looked down at the little boy in curiousity at his topic of conversation, but answered nonetheless. "Marriage is when two people who love each other very much join together in front of a priest and witnesses. In a marriage, the two people share everything that they own with the other and take care of one another for the rest of their lives. At the very least, you'd have to be 17 in the magical world before you can legally marry. The married couple also tends to move either into a new home, or one will move into the other – usually the grooms'- house." Jareth explained.

"Oh. Why aren't you married?"

Jareth choked on the water he was drinking. "Because I don't love anyone, Harry."

"Not even me?" Harry asked, for some reason feeling like there was a great big hole in his chest now.

Jareth paused and frowned at how depressed Harry looked. "I do love you, Harry. If I didn't, I wouldn't tolerate these little interruptions of yours into my life."

Harry brightened. "So that means when I'm older I could marry you?" He grinned happily.

Jareth stared at the little boy in shock and bit his tongue to inadvertently start laughing at the little imp. "Quite precocious, aren't you, little imp?"

"Well, I could, couldn't I? I don't think I'd ever love anyone the way I love you, and if married people live together, that would mean I wouldn't have to live with the Dursleys, and that I could always wake you up in the morning!" Harry explained.

"Yes, Harry, you could marry me when you turn 17. But why would you want to marry me? Why not marry a nice girl from the Above?" Jareth asked, idly wondering why he was encouraging the child so.

Harry made a face. "Girls are nasty! And they yell at you and beat you up if you say the wrong thing to them!" Harry exclaimed with all the logic of a five-year-old. "And besides, I love you – not some icky girl! And I already know you better and you're much nicer than any girl and I don't want those stinky women around you! You don't like them and they don't want to know you, plus they smell something awful and they don't look intelligent at all! Always twittering like some vapid blonde airhead – no offense, Jareth- that you see on the telly! Not to mention they're always pinching my cheeks and that's really irritating." Harry finished, crinkling his face up cutely in remembrance of the ladies and the heavy scent of perfume that they always wore.

"Is that so, little one?" Jareth asked, not even trying to hide how amused he was at this point.

"Uh-huh!" Harry exclaimed.

"Harry, if this did happen, you must be aware that I am a selfish, possessive man, and that I do not share well and that I get jealous." Jareth explained.

"So? I don't want to share you with those airheads, and I always get jealous when they have your attention." Harry stated dismissively.

Jareth sighed and shook his head, he knew better than to try and change the imp's mind when he had it set on something. "Engagement traditionally comes first, along with a ring, Harry." He pointed out.

Harry frowned, trying to think of where he could get a ring for Jareth. He knew that the Dursleys wouldn't be of any…help! Harry grinned at Jareth.

He looked back, waiting. "You're in charge of the goblins."

He nodded. "Goblins run Gringotts."

He smiled. "My parents most likely had an account at Gringotts."

He smirked. "You could get my key from whomever or have another made, right?"

He laughed. "And I could see if my parents left a will, and make sure that no one was stealing from my accounts, and get you a ring!"

He smiled again, and nodded. "That I could indeed have done, little imp. Would you like to go with me and get your affairs in order?"

"Yeah!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Chapter 4**

Chapter 4 Gringotts

"Ragnok. A moment of your time." Jareth said.

Ragnok's head snapped up when he heard the King's voice. He then blinked at the sight of the human child beside him and nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. How can I help you today?"

Jareth put his hand on the top of Harry's head. "This one wishes to know the state of his accounts, Ragnok."

Ragnok frowned. "Hasn't he been getting his statements in the mail?"

"Sir, there is never any mail of any sort with my name on it. Ever. I wasn't even aware that I had business here until Jareth told me about my parents."

Ragnok was furious at this point. "This is a clear breach of the treaty! Just where do you live, child? I need to know so that I can see just why it is that you have never received any mail from us."

"Number 4, Privet Drive, Surrey, Little Whinging. I live with my giraffe of an aunt Petunia Dursley nee Evans, her walrus of a husband Vernon Dursley, and their fat whale of a son, Dudley Dursley."

Ragnok frowned and quickly wrote out a memo. "Griphook!" he called.

Another goblin immediately came in. "Take this to the Cursebreakers and get one of them to check on it immediately! I want to know why one of our clients hasn't been receiving any of our mail by the end of lunch!" immediately Griphook left with the memo.

"Come Harry let's return to the castle for lunch. Ragnok, when you get the answers, call me immediately."

"Yes Your Majesty." Ragnok bowed as the two left. As soon as they did, he went and got the file on Harry Potter and went back to his desk to peruse and seek answers, and find them he would! No one crossed the goblins and got away with it!

--after lunch--

"The prognosis is…?" Jareth asked.

Ragnok snarled, "That old fool, Dumbledore, put up a ward so that only Hogwarts letters could get through. My apologies, young lord, for not investigating this sooner," Ragnok said.

"Then redeem yourself by getting a copy of all of my mail from you to date, and remove that ward and make sure that it can not be renewed."

Ragnok smiled. He liked this young mortal. "It will be done. Are there any more questions?"

"Who is in charge of my accounts? Did my parents leave a will? If so, was it carried out? If not, why not? Do I have a Magical Guardian? If so, why am I not with them? If not, would it be possible for me to appoint someone as my Magical Guardian? Do the Dursleys' even have guardianship of me? Or was I simply left on their doorstep? Are there any restrictions I should be aware of on my accounts? Whose brilliant idea was it to stick me with the Dursleys? Where is/are the key(s) to my vault?" Harry rattled off.

Looking over to the King, Ragnok noted the pleased smile on his face and then the approving look he sent towards the boy. "Albus Dumbledore put himself as manager of your accounts. Yes, your parents left a will. No, it was not carried out and in fact it was sealed with a Wizengamot seal so that only the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, or the head of the Wizengamot could unseal it. According to these files, you are living with your Magical Guardian, Sirius Black – who is currently residing in Azkaban – the Wizarding Prison. I highly doubt that the Dursleys actually have custody of you and it would not surprise me if that was the situation. No, there are not any restrictions on any of your accounts. Most likely, it was Dumbledore who decided that you should be with the Dursleys. All of your keys are currently in the possession of Dumbledore." Ragnok answered, quite pleased with this child.

Harry was frowning. "Who is the head of DMLE? And the head of the Wizengamot? Why is Sirius Black in prison? Just what are in my vaults? How many of them are there? Can you make a new set of keys for me and have the ones Dumbledore has destroyed?" Harry asked.

Ragnok was beaming. Never had he met such a delightful child! "Amelia Bones, Head of DMLE. Albus Dumbledore, Head of the Wizengamot. He was thrown in prison for betraying your parents, the murder of Peter Petigrew and thirteen muggles. All of your families valuables are stored there. There is your trust fund, and the Potter Vaults. Certainly I can make you a new set, but until you are seventeen, you only have access to the trust fund."

Harry frowned. "So I couldn't get something from my family vaults? And instead of destroying his set, can you just make them null?"

Ragnok raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what you would be wanting to retrieve and I most certainly could do that for you, young lord."

Harry nodded. "Good. See that it is done. I simply want to see what kind of rings are in there and would it be possible to get this Madame Bones here to talk with, today, about my parents will and my Guardian's trial – that is, provided he was given a trial?"

Ragnok raised his eyebrow again, bemused. His image of the child was going up. No wonder his Lord liked the child so. Now if he could find how the two had met… "Of course, let me send her a message. Griphook!" he called, writing a quick letter and sealing it then giving it to the goblin when he arrived. "Deliver this to Madame Bones immediately."

He nodded and left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Chapter 5**

Chapter 5 Madame Bones meets a little imp

Madame Amelia Bones, Head of the Deptarment of Magical Law Enforcement frowned as she read and reread the reports about Sirius Black. Correction: attempted to find any sort of record/trial/arrest for one Sirius Black. Nothing. Not. A. Single. Thing. Not even scrap!

Something was wrong, and she was going to find out just what it was and correct it. Immediately. She despised the current Minister. Hated the corruption in the Ministry. Was not happy with all the restrictions on the magical beings in the Wizarding world, especially the werewolves. She despised how the purebloods who were part of the Death Eaters weren't in Azkaban were they belonged.

But until there was a new Minster…

She let that thought trail off, better not to think about things that weren't going to change anytime soon and focus on what she could do to the best of her abilities.

Amelia sighed and closed her eyes while rubbing her temples. Bureaucracy. Was a bitch. She opened her eyes regretfully to get back to her paperwork.

And promptly blinked in shock when a goblin appeared in front of her with a letter in hand.

"Madame Bones, Chief Ragnok wishes to see you at you convenience." He said sharply before disappearing.

She blinked again and looked at the letter.

_Bones,_

_Child abuse. Harry Potter. Meddling old coot. Sealing of the Potter will with the Wizengamot seal._

_Do I have your attention?_

_Ragnok_

Amelia snorted at the note, but nonetheless went to the floo and threw in a pinch. "Gringotts Bank, Ragnok's Office."

She stepped out of the floo and aimed a quick Scourgify at her robes and face before frowning at Ragnok. "Must you be so cryptic?" she bit out.

The goblin bared his teeth in a smile.

Amelia tried to hide her shudder.

"She's the justice lady, right, Jar'th?" a little voice asked curiously.

Amelia blinked and looked at the toddler in front of her and then she hissed inwardly when she recognized the man whose lap he was sitting on. What was he doing here?!

"Your Majesty," she said nervously. What in Merlin's name had drawn the monarch of the Underground to the Aboveground? And why, oh why, was Harry Potter sitting in his lap like he did this everyday?

She froze and then looked back at the todd-boy. Harry Potter was to be six in July and he looked like he was half his age.

"Madame Bones. I see you understand why you were brought here," The Goblin King drawled. His odd, unnerving eyes fixed on her own with an intensity in them she was wary of.

She nodded, lips firmly pressed together in anger. How could anyone willingly hurt a child?

"I had you called so that we could revoke the seal on the Potters' will and carry it out," Jareth drawled smoothly, one hand running through Harry's hair, the other sitting on his waist, keeping the boy in one place.

Amelia's eyes narrowed. "Dumbledore's seal?" she asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it.

Jareth nodded, an odd little smile playing about his face. "Correct, and not only that, but I believe that it was Dumbledore's idea to put the little imp with those blasted Dursleys," he snarled.

Amelia looked at the monarch warily. The king she knew did not get angry, and this Jareth was positively livid. She had a feeling that strong emotions were an unfamiliar concept to the Goblin King and she had no wish whatsoever to be around when he started to express those feelings. None at all. Which is as much pity she could summon up for the targets of his wrath, for the fey truly valued children and the thought of someone deliberately hurting a child was a foreign concept to them.

He smiled then, and it was gentle and kind. "Ragnok, why don't you have a goblin escort Imp here to his vaults so that he can find a ring, hm? I'm sure Imp would rather not be here for the upcoming proceedings."

Harry's face scrunched up. "You're going to be talking a lot of boring adult jargon, aren't you, Jar'th?" he asked suspiciously, twisting to face the monarch.

Amelia watched as his hands moved so that they were on Harry's back and keeping him balanced, "Indeed, Imp. Smart for your age you may be, I highly doubt that you want to hear all this 'boring adult jargon'." Jareth replied.

Harry frowned. "You'll look after me?" he asked uncertainly.

Jareth nodded and pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead. "Do you have to ask, Imp?"

Harry giggled and got off his lap before looking at Ragnok. "Griphook, please escort young master Harry to his vaults." The goblin chief ordered.

"This way, young master," Griphook said, gently taking the boys' elbow and leading him away.

Amelia blinked before turning to look at the rooms occupants, "A ring?" she asked, curious.

Jareth smirked at her and turned to Ragnok. "Now, about that will…" he started, ignoring her question save for a smirk.

She decided it might be best not to know.

HPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHP

Harry looked around his vault in wide-eyed wonder, before turning to the task at hand: finding a ring.

After walking around awhile Harry found it and grinned.

It wasn't too thin, nor too thick, but just right for his Jar'th. The band was of a silvery, shimmering metal and had emerald 'vines' on it. The ring had a gold ring inlaid and in the middle was a curious little stone. Looking at it directly, it was deep blue like Jar'th's right eye, but tilt it left, and it was icy blue like his left. Tilt it to the right, and the two colors seemed to mix together.

Harry smiled at the ring and, gripping it tightly, moved back to Griphook. "We can go now." He stated confidently.

Griphook nodded. "You found that which you were seeking, young master?" he asked respectfully.

Harry nodded and showed Griphook the ring. Griphook's eyebrows raised and he gave a soft whistle of admiration. "That is a very handsome ring, young master."

"I know. Jar'th's going to like it!" he said excitedly.

Griphook stared at the child in the cart before shaking his head and speeding back to the offices.

HPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHPLHP

"Jar'th! Jar'th!" Harry squealed excitedly as he burst into the room and aimed unerringly for the Goblin King.

Jareth smiled softly before catching the flying bundle of child that had hurled himself at Jareth.

"I found the perfect ring, Jar'th!" Harry exclaimed happily as he wrapped himself around the man.

"Did you now, imp?" he asked, curious as to Imp's definition of 'perfect'.

Harry grinned and showed the ring to Jareth, whose eyes immediately widened when he saw the ring.

It was very beautiful, without being overly gaudy. "A ring set in mithril, hm?" he asked, sitting down and pulling a glove off.

His hand was immediately taken by Imp's who then proceeded to put the ring on that he had chosen. Task done, he looked at the ring critically before nodding to himself. "Perfect." He then looked up at Jareth seriously and asked. "So now we're engaged, right?" he asked.

Ragnok and Griphook choked on their breath at his question.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Chapter 6**

Chapter 6 Sirius Black

Sirius Black was not a happy man. Or a happy dog. Take your pick, either way he was one very unhappy wizard.

Had been for some time. Going on what, 7-8 years now that he had been stuck in this…oh, one word describing his location, ah yes, hellhole.

7 or 8 years that he had been wrongfully imprisoned, 7 or 8 years too long in this hellhole. And why? 'Cuz no one could be bothered to get off their FAT ASSES and give him a real trial. Oh wait, correction, a trial would be nice. Seeing as how they had FORGOTTEN to give him one the first time 'round.

Hell they hadn't even questioned him!

So was it any wonder he was bitter?

Personally, Sirius thought that he had every right to be bitter.

Which, when he thought about (he tried not to, really, too depressing) it, was really not fair. I mean, honestly!, even Death Munchers were questioned and given a trial! But he wasn't? Hmph. Talk about lack of justice.

They'd just gotten the survivors' account of what had happened and assumed he'd done it! Assholes! The whole lot of them. Every stinking last one of them. Somehow, it would not surprise him in the least if Dumbledore had had a hand in ensuring that he was not given a trial. Or for that matter if Malfoy had done something. He wouldn't put it past the blonde. No matter how much galleons he lined the ministers pockets with to escape persecution Sirius knew that the blonde bastard was an Inner Circle Death Eater. So it wouldn't surprise him in the least if the arrogant ferret had a hand in this. Would be something that the old coot would do to see also that his plans went the way he wanted to go to.

Sirius smirked then, remembering something James and he had set up for their accounts (they weren't paranoid! They were just...extremely wary and erring on the side of caution!). If for any reason, something happened to one or the other, that person's account would freeze until the other unfroze it.

Fact: James & Lily were dead. (Which sucked. Who was he to prank with now?)

Effect: their accounts would freeze, sealed to anyone who was not Sirius Orion Black. (Which was good and prevented anyone coughDumbledorecough from getting any out.)

Fact: He, Sirius Black, was wrongfully imprisoned. (Which sucked even more, because he really, really hated being cooped up in one place for long periods of time.)

Effect: His accounts were frozen, sealed to anyone who was not James Tiberus Potter or Harry James Potter. (Which was a very good thing, meant nobody could line their pockets with others' money. coughNarcissacough)

Somehow, Sirius felt that those two facts would annoy the headmaster (as well as certain relative of his) greatly. Which brought up something worrying: where the hell was Harry living?

…

His parents were dead - obviously not an option.

He was in jail - and supposedly a Death Eater, so he was out.

Moony was a werewolf - therefore there was no way the Ministry would allow Harry to live with Remy.

Frank and Alice - not only did they have their own son to worry about, he doubted that they were going to come out of hiding anytime soon.

Petunia - hated…magic. Oh. Shit.

ShitshitshitshitshitshitSHIT!

Sirius had a very bad feeling that he knew exactly where Harry had been put, and he didn't like to even think about what could happen to his godson there.

The Dursleys.

It made sense.

James' parents were dead, and no one knew where his grandparents where (or if they were even alive, so why not dump Harry with the Dursleys?

Sirius groaned and banged his head against the wall.

Dumbledore, without a doubt, would have put Harry with the Dursleys.

Who lived in suburbia.

And hated magic.

Who hated freaks.

And hated magic.

Who hated James.

And hated magic.

Who hated Lily.

And hated magic.

Or anything that didn't fit into their 'normal' world.

Did he mention that they didn't like magic?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!

Sirius really, really hoped that Harry had a very generous portion of good luck in him. Or, failing that, that someone was watching out for the kid, and making sure he was happy and healthy, in that order.

Safe? It'd be nice if he was safe, very nice in fact but Sirius was more concerned with his emotional, mental and physical state of being rather than safety.

Though, if Harry had been dumped on the Dursley's, Sirius doubted that Harry was happy or healthy. He was betting that they were doing everything short of poisoning him or physically killing him and were getting away with it. Probably were making Harry into their own personal little house-elf. Bastards.

Sirius leaned back against the wall with a heavy sigh. He didn't know what to do, not that he could do anything, seeing as how he was stuck in this little slice of hell on earth, and frankly, it frustrated the hell out of him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Chapter 7**

Chapter 7 this was not in the plan!

Albus Dumbledore was not happy. Albus was…out of lemon drops. Pout. Disregarding – for the moment – his lack of candy to focus on what was aggravating him so – other than his lack of candy.

Harry Potter.

More specifically, his plans concerning said boy and how they were coming along…rather how they weren't coming along!

He had planned everything out quite carefully, and yet the boy was interfering without even doing anything!

Though, truthfully, the blame was not on the boy himself. Oh, no. His problems had started shortly after he had deposited the boy on his aunts' steps.

It all started out simply and from there, escalated:

He couldn't get into the vaults…the Potter vaults were sealed tightly enough that he doubted a mote of dust could get in there. This wasn't supposed to happen! It was NOT in his plan!

He couldn't appoint himself Harry's magical guardian, because Sirius Black was his guardian. Problem.

Solution: put him in jail for murder of the Potters.

Affect: the Black accounts were now sealed as tightly as the Potters' vaults.

This was a problem that would have to be put on a back burner for now, since Sirius was the only Black that he could use.

Damnit, this wasn't supposed to happen! All of his plans had started to go south…ever since he put the boy with the Dursleys.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Dumbledore turned this new idea over in his mind, looking it over for flaws, for loopholes, for anything that could put a hiccup in his plans.

As he went over the idea, and nothing came to him, he started to smile a nasty, wicked smile that was most unlike his public persona.

Yesss, this was perfect!

There was no flaw in it that could be seen, and he would make sure that nothing went wrong with his plan.

His plans would be on track once more, and his weapon would be ready for molding once he deigned to pay attention to him.

Now to make preparations so that the Dursleys would go along with his plans…


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

1991

Dursley residence

"Boy! Get the mail, now!"

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered softly, as he left his cupboard to get the mail, throwing a nasty look towards the kitchen and his relatives. He sneered and wondered just how it was that he was related to those…_animals_.

He stopped suddenly at the tingling in his hand, and he looked at the only letter in the pile junk mail. It was addressed to him. He smirked and headed back to the kitchen, slipping the letter into his cupboard on the way.

Harry handed the rest of the mail to Vernon, slipped around the table and gathered dishes, and put them in the sink before sliding back towards the table to gather the platters of leftover food. He grudgingly disposed of the remaining food; such a waste.

He'd burnt the toast this morning, so he wouldn't be getting any food unless he managed to finish his chores before dinner. The brunet snorted at that thought; the list of daily chores that he was given to do was impossible to complete by himself by the deadline, so naturally he would be going without.

Like he cared.

Not.

Somehow, Harry just _**knew**_ that his relatives were getting paid for their inhumane treatment of him. Just the way that he knew he wasn't supposed to be here, knowing without knowing.

And it didn't help that he kept seeing _**that man**_ in his dreams!

Harry was positive he had never seen the man before; he'd remember it.

The man was very tall (to him, at least), with shaggy - not messy, because it was haphazard in a purposeful way - blond hair that fell halfway down his back with uneven bangs in the front, shadowing what he just knew were enchanting, dual toned eyes. Harry could still picture in his mind the man's inhumanly beautiful, aristocratic face. Sharp cheekbones and pale, soft skin.

But it was the man's clothes that struck him the most; no one Harry knew could pull off that look so fashionably, as if he weren't some relic of old days past - so comfortable in his strange attire, like he'd always been that way and would always be that way. Tight leather pants hugged lean legs, tucked snugly in form fitting, knee high boots, and his chest was partially bared by the ruffled poets shirt, a triangular pendant on a leather cord resting teasingly on the bared skin.

But most curious was the man's strange habit of rolling a crystal ball fluidly - appearing here and there, traveling along his hands and arms as if a part of him, shattering and reforming in the blink of an eye - between long fingered hands hidden behind black leather gloves.

If not because of the beauty, the crystal balls were what made Harry hesitate calling the stranger a "man." Because no real man could shape the world as he wished, could bring ephemeral dreams to life, and create life and snuff it out as easily as breathing. But Harry knew of no other way to describe him, because even though he obviously wasn't a normal man, there was no other way to label him.

Whenever Harry dreamed of him, he dreamed of being safe, of knowing that nothing would harm him because the other would not allow it…which was why his aunt always had such a difficult time getting him out of bed.

Why face harsh reality when you can savor sweet dreams and fantasies?

But dreams were just dreams and wishes didn't come true, so he pushed it to the back of his mind


End file.
